Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Five years ago today, I came back to Ohio after spending a week in Texas with my first love. This month also marks four years since our relationship fell apart and two years since I lost my dogs. Needless to say, this is really not my time of year anymore. And it fucking sucks. October used to be my favorite thing for so many reasons. Crisp weather, the leaves changing colors and spiraling to the ground, clear blue skies and Orion visible at night, not to mention Halloween and apple season. Instead, I've spent the last few years dreading everything to do with October because of Angel. It sounds stupid, I know, we've been over for four years, but I still have a hard time with that. I think it might be because I fell in love with him when I was sixteen (three years before we dated) and I had really thought we had something. I can honestly say that I have not let anyone that close since him and that is a terrible thing.
There's a sort of loneliness lurking inside of me and I have grown so accustomed to it that the idea of trying to fill that void terrifies me. So, I choose to hide away, put up these impossible walls and barricade what's left of me. So much so that I don't even know where the maze of traps begins or ends anymore, something that makes it so much harder to let down those tired old defenses. I push and lash out, desperate to show people that I am not something that can be tamed or, worse, loved. It's a cruel cycle and, for the life of me, I have no idea how to break it.
So I write. I pour my issues into fictional characters and find them all of the things I cannot find for myself. I give this imaginary world all of the things I wish I could have, hoping it will help in some manner or another. It's easy to get lost in, but then the computer goes quiet for the night, I log off of things and the reality of the world comes crashing back in waves that pull me under without a breath and I am so tired of feeling like I'm constantly drowning.
I just want to feel worthy of love.